


Works of Art

by Megpie71



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Body Modification, M/M, Piercings, Self-Mutilation, Tattoos, body art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 10:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5493518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megpie71/pseuds/Megpie71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More conservative folks mutter about "self-mutilation".  But really, Cloud thinks, it's more about self-reclamation than anything else - reclaiming their true selves from what everyone else expects of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Works of Art

Two adjacent lockers at the gym. Two young men standing there as they change into workout gear. 

On the left, blond hair spiking out in all directions, blue eyes, six piercings along one pale eyebrow, and a string of them along the edge of the opposite ear hint at a further collection which mean this guy's in for a lifetime of hassle from metal detectors. The lowest of the earrings is a stylised silver wolf with a ring in its mouth, although the rest (and the eyebrow hardware) are just plain silver hoops.

On the right, rough, wavy dark hair, steel-grey eyes, no visible piercings, but there's the edge of a full sleeve tattoo peeking out from below the left cuff of his leather jacket, and just visible along the edges of the white singlet top he wears below it. 

When the blond guy takes off his shirt, he reveals another three rings - one in each nipple, and one in his navel. The brunet taking off his shirt shows off a full back piece; a winged lion rampant and roaring at the viewer, flanked on either side by the Guardian Force Shiva, and the Guardian Force Quezcotl. A closer look at his arm work reveals Ifrit and Siren back to back on his upper arm, with the Brothers flanking Diablo along his forearm. 

The blond looks across at his companion's artwork. "Looking good. What's next?" A tongue stud flashes as he speaks, although the clarity of his words indicates this isn't a recent acquisition. 

"Carbuncle, Leviathan, Pandemona on the right arm. The rest of them across the front." The brunet looks over at the blond's hardware. "What's next for you?"

"Haven't quite decided," he says. "I mean, people expect me to do a lip or nose, but those are just sorta... I dunno."

"Could always consider lower down," the brunet says, with a smirk. 

The blond smirks back. "What makes you think I haven't?" 

"Saw you in the shower last week, remember?"

"A week's a long time in body art."

"True."

They each pull on their practice shirts, grab towels, and head into the gym. The blond goes across to the free weights, and starts stretching before he begins running through reps, while the tattooed brunet heads across to the treadmill to warm up with a few miles run. They're neither of them going to be big bruisers, it's clear - both are built for wiriness rather than bulk, slender rather than solid. If you watch them closely, you can see another similarity - both are pushing themselves hard, trying to get further, as though they're trying to exhaust themselves or exorcise inner demons through the activity. Both are drenched with sweat by the time they finish their respective work-outs (the brunet ends up on the free weights; the blond has been running to nowhere on the treadmill). 

They head back to their lockers, grab their respective showering kits. 

Two adjacent showers at the gym. On the right, blond hair spiking out everywhere even when soaked with water. On the left, dark brown locks drenched to the point they almost look black. The water makes the tattooed guy's art glisten, looking almost new. Brunette looks down at blond, looks back up and raises an eyebrow.

"A week's a long time in body art, hmm?" he comments.

The blond smirks, smug. "Got bored." There's not one, but two rings adorning the blond's private parts. One's a delicate silver piece threaded through his foreskin. The second nestles in the gap between the base of the blond's penis, and the start of his scrotum. 

"Healed up yet?" the brunet asks, with a smirk of his own.

"Another few weeks," the blond sighs. "I'm thinking of getting the rest of the ladder done."

"Well, that'll keep you out of trouble," the brunet observes. "Although I have to wonder what's going to happen when you run out of places to put metal."

"Same thing that's gonna happen when you run out of places to put ink," the blond retorts. "Look for somewhere new."

"So I'll see you down at Aerith's later on?" 

"Wouldn't miss it."

~

_Flower Girl Body Art_ is probably the best tattoo parlour and piercing salon in Radiant Garden. All care taken with regards to sterilising their tools, only the best quality gear used, and the place is, contrary to the popular image of the dark, sleazy tattoo parlour and the stick-'em-and-go piercing salons, full of light, air and flowers. It started out as an old church, and the stained glass windows are still there, only these days they're being filled with glass versions of some of Aerith's best art. 

"Hey, Cloudy!" says the tall, black-haired piercing specialist as the blond comes in. "How's the latest pair doing?"

The blond grins, and slaps hands with the guy. "Hey Zack. No infections, no swelling, seems to be healing up nicely so far."

"As expected," Zack replies. His grin takes on a lewd edge. "Managed to keep your hands off so far?"

Cloud rolls his eyes. "Bastard!" he shoots back. "I'm fuckin' dying here. I had no goddamn _idea_ how often my underwear rubbed on things, I swear!"

"You'll get used to it. So what's it gonna be today?"

"Do the ladder. May as well get 'em all over and done at once, that way I might be able to actually get off sometime before Yule."

"Kinky!" Zack leers, gesturing toward a workroom. "Well, c'mon, we'll see about getting them done. Leon's in with Aerith talking over designs for that second sleeve of his, they'll be at it for at least another hour."

When Cloud emerges (throbbing all the way along the length of his cock, and floating on an endorphin high that just won't quit) he heads over to a second workroom and knocks politely on the door.

"Who is it?" comes a sweet female voice from within. 

"Okay if I come in?" 

The workroom door opens, and Cloud gets a quick inspection from a pretty, petite brunette, her long hair in a thick plait down her back. "Are you able to sit down?" she asks, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

Cloud grimaces a little. "Not just yet, I think," he says. "Okay if I stand?"

Aerith cocks a glance over her shoulder. "Well, Leon?" 

The brunet from the gym smirks in Cloud's direction. "Impatient as always," he comments. "Yeah, it's okay."

Cloud slips into the room, and picks a piece of wall to lean on near Leon's left side. Aerith's already got her kit out, with Leon's jacket stripped off on the right. She's starting to outline the basics of the work - Pandemona on Leon's upper arm, Leviathan curled like an armband around his elbow, with the sea-dragon's open mouth hissing from the crook of his arm, and Carbuncle scampering up the top of Leon's forearm, his tail wrapped around the under-surface of his arm. The process is slow and painstaking, but Cloud can see the signs of Leon starting to drift off into the same sort of endorphin-hazed bliss that keeps him coming back again and again. 

They'd started this when they were teenagers, trying to cope with the rigours of high school without going insane. If you look carefully in Leon's left sleeve, you can still see the remnants of the first tattoo he got - a clumsy, self-done piece - ball point pen ink and a darning needle, incorporated into Siren's waters by Aerith's clever hands. Cloud's first piercing was on his right ear, another self-done job, ripped out long ago by an opponent in a high school brawl. There's something about the pain of it (the short, sharp jab and throb of a piercing for Cloud; the long, drawn-out pinpricks and ache of the tattoos for Leon) which just works to counterbalance the expectations that were loaded onto them. 

Leon was always expected to succeed, always told he had to be stoic, be tough, be flawless. Cloud was always expected to fail, to break, to shatter at the least pressure. Now they wear their answers to those expectations proudly - Leon's artwork visible as brightly coloured shadows through even the heaviest shirts; Cloud's piercings daring his tormentors to try and break him. 

More conservative folks mutter about "self-mutilation". But really, Cloud thinks, as he drifts slowly down from his high, it's more about self-reclamation than anything else - reclaiming their true selves from what everyone else expects of them. He says as much to Leon.

"Hn," Leon grunts, already more than halfway into the near-trance he falls into each time he gets more art done. Aerith looks up at Cloud and smiles her agreement, before continuing to ink in the outlines of the new sleeve. 

When Aerith's finally done, a couple of hours later, Leon's floating, while Cloud's come down. It's a routine for the two of them by now - Cloud comes in and gets his work done, and drifts down slowly, under competent supervision (he'd fainted the first couple of times he got a piercing done, and Aerith insists on him being supervised these days) while waiting to help Leon home at the end of his session. They pay for their work, and make follow-up appointments to ensure everything's going fine (these days, the appointments are less about checking on after-care, and more about meeting up with Aerith and Zack for a good meal and a long, aimless chat about anything and everything).

~

By the time they've got home, both of them are ready to collapse into bed. There's just the immediate care to be done - the wincing baths in salt water for Cloud's piercings, and the careful wrapping and bandaging of Leon's new art, to ensure no dirt gets into the wound. Clean sheets on the bed, put there this morning, in anticipation of Leon's return from another fly-in-fly-out session restoring the far reaches of Traverse Town. They snuggle together, exchanging sleepy kisses as they drift off.

Leon's only home for a few days, before he's due back out to the restoration site. Cloud, meanwhile, hasn't been able to get time off from his self-run delivery business in months - not if he wants to keep his clientele. It's not a perfect life, but then, what ever is? They hold onto the pleasure they can get in the meantime.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Strifehart Kink Meme. 
> 
> Prompt was: "This anon would like to see the issue of self-mutilation be done without using physical, emotional or sexual abuse as a reason for it, because I've seen abuse too often in fics and because there actually exist self-mutilaters/cutters that doesn't have abuse or trauma in their baggage. Unresolved feelings of abandonment and inadequacy, pressure to be smart, sexy/goodlooking and successful and percieved continual failures are all valid reasons for selfdestructive behaviours, especially coupled with the rapid changes puberty often entails. Who does it is up to anon, or perhaps they've come into contact because they're both doing it?
> 
> Bonus points for no fluff  
> Bonus points for including methods of self-harm that is not cutting"
> 
> Posted at the meme on 13 NOV 2015 -   
> http://cleonrp.livejournal.com/2723.html?thread=976547#t976547


End file.
